14
Liam
Nine Years Ago
She told me her family usually went to Tahoe during winter break. I remembered almost everything Layla shared with me that night. So, as soon as I finished with classes in the fall—nine months after meeting her during spring break—I headed home with excitement. I was hoping for more than a little luck.
My first day back, I checked the cabin her family stayed in last time. No luck. I even knocked on the door, only to be met with some confused strangers. I didn’t care. I apologized and walked along the lake’s shore, hoping to see her. Still no luck. I knew it was a long shot, but I wasn’t ready to give up.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about Layla all year. School kept me somewhat occupied, but I was also a little bit bored. Most of what they were teaching me was stuff I already knew. I even forced myself to go on a date or two, but I wasn’t feeling it. My first year of college should have been fun, but instead, it dragged on. A lot of that had to do with her. I still couldn’t get her out of my mind after nearly a year.
That first day after we met, I slept most of the day since we’d been out past sunrise. As soon as I woke up, I felt excited, hoping Layla would want to hang out with me again. I was like a lovesick puppy. Totally smitten. After eating, getting ready, and heading to her place, though, my excitement faded. She wasn’t there. No one was.
At first, I didn’t think much of it. I figured she and her family had gone out for dinner or something. They’d be back.
By the next day, my feelings turned to dread. They still weren’t back. I happened to run into one of their neighbors, so I stopped to chat. They informed me an ambulance had taken an elderly lady from the cabin the day before. My stomach dropped. I thought her grandma might have died or something, and I felt terrible.
Every day I went back hoping they’d return, but if they had, I must have missed it.
Nothing changed over winter break—I still hoped to find her wherever I went. I would sit in a restaurant or stroll downtown, spotting a head of black hair and feeling a spark of excitement, only to be disappointed when I realized it wasn’t her. I couldn’t spend every minute looking for her, though. Dex kept me busy, dragging me off to snowboard, making appearances at a couple of parties, and other mindless things.
On the last day of my winter break before I had to head back to college, I was having lunch with my older sister, Lace, and my best friend, Dex. I was feeling down, my hope of finding her dwindling to almost nothing. They both knew all about my obsession with the girl from spring break. Dex had already met her, and I’d told Lace all about her. Lace thought it was adorable, and said Layla sounded great. She had never liked any of the other girls I talked to in the past. She was always very protective of me.
“Alright,” I said, sitting up straighter after we finished our food. “It’s my last night here. Let’s do something crazy.”
“I’m in!” Dex exclaimed, his smile widening. He didn’t even listen to my idea before agreeing.
“We’re getting tattoos,” I announced.
“I mean, I already have a bunch,” Dex said with a shrug. “But cool. Happy to go with you to pop that cherry.”
“Let’s do it. Maybe I’ll even get a full sleeve started,” I joked.
“I’m out,” Lace interjected. “I have a date later. And what’s up with you guys getting sad-boy tattoos? First Dex after Marny ditched him, and now you, Liam, since you’re moping about not finding your mystery girl again?”
“I didn’t get my tattoos because of that!” Dex protested.
“Whatever. Stay out of trouble. Love ya,” Lace says, getting up to leave.
“Love ya,” I called back.
Dex and I parted ways with her at the restaurant and drove almost an hour to the nearest tattoo shop, spending half the night there.
The next morning, I left for school early. As I drove through Sacramento, I thought of Layla again. I’d tried searching for her online when she first left but gave up after a while. I had almost nothing to go on and couldn’t find a trace of her.
I was starting to think it just wasn’t meant to be, that maybe I should give up looking. I’d thought she’d been just as into me as I was into her, but maybe I was mistaken. Maybe she didn’t want to find me. At least she knew where I lived. If she’d really wanted to, she could’ve come back to find me. The idea that she possibly didn’t want to fucking hurt, so I tried not to think about it. I preferred to believe that something kept her from coming back.
Either way, I’d probably never see that girl again. But I felt like maybe I’d always remember her anyway.